


No Devils, Only Demons

by hmisko



Category: Daredevil (Comics), Marvel, Marvel 616, Punisher (Comics)
Genre: Ableism, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Disabled Character, Canon Related, Crimes & Criminals, Daredevil (2019): #5, Disability, Falling In Love, Grilled Cheese, Hatred, LGBTQ Character, LGBTQ Male Character, LGBTQ Themes, M/M, Misunderstanding, Religion, Sexual Tension, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Tension, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-17
Updated: 2019-08-17
Packaged: 2020-09-06 08:50:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20288743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hmisko/pseuds/hmisko
Summary: When Matt Murdock quits being a superhero, he has to decide what the next chapter of his life will be, and an unlikely hero decides to take his place.(Canon Divergence slowburn that takes place after Daredevil (2019): #5, even number chapters are Frank Castle POV, and odd number chapters are Matt Murdock POV)





	1. Chapter 1

Daredevil’s story has finally ended. Now that I’ve been convinced that I shouldn’t be a hero anymore by not only my friends, but by half of Hell’s Kitchen, I decide that my first course of action should be to go to bed. As I get ready to sleep, I think about that shirt I stole from Frank. Considering that he runs on no sleep and pure hatred I doubt that he has more than two outfits. Plus, the shirt stinks of tobacco and sweat.  
I hope that I’m not robbing him of anything important, god knows how much the world has taken from him. I’m trying not to feel bad, though, keeping in consideration how he tied me up and reminded me how horrible of a person I am, just to make me beat him senseless and barely escape with my dignity.  
He murdered someone. Right in front of me. I understand that he does this all the time but the way he was so desensitized, it was terrifying. I can’t sleep because I’m thinking about how I could have saved the man he killed. I guess Peter was right, I’m not cut out for this job anymore.  
As I walk towards my bed, I snatch the shirt off the floor. Even just having it in my vicinity gives me the creeps. I can’t stand it, and I throw the shirt into the deepest corner of my closet, and shut its doors.  
As I lie in bed, his words echoed through my head. ”When you and I fight, I think about how you’re a good guy, but a selfish good guy, who just does it to feel like he’s a good guy.” I know he’s wrong, but it doesn’t make it hurt any less. I’m just glad I never have to deal with him ever again. One last thing pops into my head before I fell asleep.  
What’s next?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! this is supposed do be just like a prologue so it’s really short, next chapter will be a lot longer. Thank you for reading!


	2. Chapter 2

There’s no doubt that daredevil is stronger than me. I knew that cuffing him up in my hideout after saving him couldn’t stop him from wiping the floor with me. I had to try though, it was my perfect shot, and as always, I blew it.  
I open my eyes slowly. The air smells musty, and smoke creeps along the bottom of the floor. After going into a coughing fit for a couple of minutes, I carefully stand up, and I realize I don’t have a shirt on.   
That little shit stole my shirt.   
I mean, I stole part of his costume too, so I'm not that pissed, but I saved that man's life, just for him to blow up my base and steal my only shirt. I really hope some of my older clothes survived the explosion.   
I get my bearings, and I soon realize that he dragged me down into the basement corridor. “Damn he’s strong,” I whisper to myself, the words echoing along the dimly lit hallway.   
I try not to think about how he managed to carry me down here, and I check to make sure I didn't get seriously injured. As I bend my left knee, pain shoots up from my calf through the back of my knee, which makes me think that I tore something. other than that, my nose feels broken, my head hurts like hell, and I think I did something to my back, but it's nothing that either I or time can’t fix. Doesn’t make it hurt any less, though.   
There’s also the gashes from where he shot at me, one on my neck, one in my chest, and a couple more around my torso. I know I have something to patch them up with in my belt, but i’ll need tape first.   
I think again, about the corridor. Out of how confusing the hallways and tunnels in and below the building are, I don’t ever recall coming down into these hallways.   
I slowly get back up and I limp my way around the corridor, noticing that there’s no easy way out of here. It’s one long corridor bent into the shape of a square, and on one of the corners is a ladder that leads up to a half opened hatch door.   
Noticing that there’s no way I can get up there on my own, I scour the empty hallway looking for anything that could possibly help me.   
As I walk, I again wonder if some of my stuff survived the explosion. I have a lot of shit in there and daredevil blew it up like it was all garbage. I’ll get him some day, but for now I have to get out of here.  
At one end, i find an empty cage, which is mildly concerning, but it’s not big enough to house any animal I couldn’t take on. I also spot a door with a padlock down a dead end hall, but it doesn’t look like I could get it open.   
I stumble upon a toolbox, it’s dark blue and covered in dust, which pretty much confirms that I'm the first person to be down here in a long time. Upon further inspection it’s locked but thankfully I’m always prepared.   
I pull two bobby pins out of one of the back compartments of my belt. It’s an odd thing to keep on you but you never know when you’re gonna need to pick a lock.   
After fumbling around with the bobby pins, i bend them to shape and get to work. It doesn’t take much time before I finally get that sucker open.   
There’s not much in there, there’s a wrench, a screwdriver, and some duct tape. Jackpot. One last thing sticks out to me, a switchblade with the initials B.M. laser engraved into the handle.   
The craftsmanship is beautiful, someone clearly paid a lot of money for this, it’s sad to see it left here. There’s just something about it that makes it feel like it’s a part of someone, which makes me hesitant to take it.   
I think for a second if anyone in this city has these initials, anyone good or bad, but I can’t think of any B.M.’s. I try not to think too much of it, I stuff it in my back pocket, and grab the wrench and the duct tape. I think I might be able to make something work with this.   
I grab all of the gauze I have from one of my belt pockets and sit down near the toolbox.   
I set the gauze down and pick at the tape until it unsticks from itself. I rip off a piece with my teeth and sandwich the gauze in between the tape and the wound on my chest. I do this with all of my cuts until they’re all patched up.   
I stand up as slowly as possible, grabbing the wrench, screwdriver, and tape as i stand back up.   
Limping back, I heard scuttering coming from behind, and before I could even react, there was a raccoon jumping onto my bare back.   
I immediately drop everything my hands and scream in pain. It crawls up onto my shoulder, digging it’s sharp claws into my back, making it hurt way more than it did before.   
But...it’s not attacking me. It’s just sitting on my shoulder, sniffing around. Either it’s a very well trained raccoon, or it’s sick, and at this point, I don't know which is worse.   
Curious, I pick it up off my shoulder, and it immediately hisses at me and scratches its way out of my grip. It runs to the other side of the hallway.  
I slowly limp my way over to the raccoon. It seems hurt, I really hope I didn't hurt him. Upon closer inspection there’s an orange tag wrapped around his back right paw.   
I can’t quite make out what it says, but I assume that means it was someone else’s, and that it probably isn’t sick.   
I’m not that big of a fan of animals. They smell, they’re expensive, they’re messy, and I certainly don’t have the money or energy to take care of one, but there’s something about this little guy that makes me feel soft on the inside.   
I hate that.   
There’s no way I can leave it here to starve though. There’s also no way I'll be able to get it back up with me right now. God knows how long it’s been down here though, so getting it food is one of my top priorities right now.   
It gets up and starts to strut it’s way around the halls again, and I get back to what I'm doing.   
After scouting the area one last time, I pick up the wrench and the duct tape and make my way over to the ladder.   
Upon further inspection, the ladder looks like it’s on there pretty strong; I shouldn’t have to worry about it breaking or falling   
The hatch door, on the other hand, is nearly broken. The door is just barely hanging on, and I think I can get it off with a screwdriver. Of course that’s the one thing i didn’t take from the box.   
As I get back over to the toolbox, I notice the raccoon sleeping soundly right in front of it. It looks so comfortable, so as quietly as I can, I put the wrench and the duct tape back in the box, and I take out the screwdriver.   
Once I got back to the ladder, I take the screwdriver and unscrew one side of one of the hinges. As soon as I get the screw out of the other side, the whole door falls right to the floor, hitting me in the head on it’s way down.   
Once it hit the ground, the raccoon hissed and dashed down the hallway, and now my headache is a lot worse.   
I’m almost out though, so I muster up all of my strength and very slowly make my way up the ladder.   
The climbing makes my back ache even worse than it already did, and every time I step on the ladder a pain shoots up my leg. I can feel my bandages start to come off and the one on my chest does, but it doesn’t stop me, and I eventually make my way up to the top. It wasn’t much of a climb but it felt like it took forever.   
Once i get out and onto the floor, I take a short breather; getting up that short ladder took all of whatever energy I had left. After laying there for a solid ten minutes, I slowly sit up and I check my surroundings.   
Finally I’m in familiar territory. I don’t like what I see, though. Nothings on fire anymore, but every inch in what I used to consider my home is decimated and   
destroyed.   
I finally stand up and get a better view of my surroundings. Some stuff looks like it’s fine, like some of my weapons, but i’m not too sure about the things in the other rooms.   
I’ve lost so much, and even though this should feel personal, so many people have taken so much from me I just can’t feel upset. It feels so familiar but...different in some way; It baffles me, and I stand there, just thinking, for longer than I would like to admit.   
I don’t have time for this right now, I can’t let that raccoon die.   
I run to the semi-burnt cabinet and the door falls right off as I grab it.  
“Shit, what the hell do raccoons eat?” I murmur under my breath. Of what still looks remotely edible in the charred cabinets I have bread, almonds, and an assortment of canned foods. That’s about all I eat, but it’s definitely not too great for a raccoon. I grab the nuts because I feel that’s the best choice and I put them into my belt, then i make my way back over to the hatch door.   
Getting back down the ladder is much easier. it doesn’t take as long and even though it still hurts it’s not as much. As I climb down my makeshift bandage on my neck falls off. I can’t worry about that right now.   
Once I take a breather at the bottom of the ladder, I start to limp my way over to where the raccoon was last standing, but he’s not there. I turn the next corner and see it sitting there, back in its cage.   
I slowly reach into the side compartment of my belt and grab a couple of the almonds. I kneel down as slow as possible as to not hurt my knee anymore, and extend my open hand toward the raccoon.   
It doesn’t notice at first, so with my other hand i tap the ground until it darts it’s eyes over to me. Once it notices, it slowly makes it’s way over to me, but it doesn’t seem to want to eat from out of my hand.   
I set the almonds down and slowly stand up. It still won’t eat.   
I decide to just leave it alone in hopes it will eat them later, but as I turn the corner, i hear it start to nibble on one of them. I peek around the corner and lo and behold...it just doesn’t want to eat near me. I watch it for a little while, until it notices me and stops eating.  
I don’t normally like animals. especially not ones that remind me of past co-workers. But there’s something about this little guy that draws me to him. He’s ugly, yeah. And he definitely needs a bath. But he’s...different.   
But what should I name him? I don’t normally do this type of thing but I don’t see myself getting attached to another trash panda; Rocket took me years to even tolerate. Well, he scratched me, he smells, and I’m sure he hates me.   
I think I'll name it Matt. I never liked that name, but I don’t know why.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I really wish I could make this chapter one and have the last one just be a prologue but oh well. Chapter one is short only because it’s supposed to be a prologue. Also Frank doesn’t know Daredevil is Matt Murdock in the canon this fic diverges from. See ya next week!


End file.
